


You fill up my senses

by LucyStarkid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Baby boyfriends to spouses and all the Valentine's in between, Flowers and more than just flowers you know., Harry likes it. A lot., Harry riding louis, Louis in lacy underwear, Louis is a sap and Harry absolutely loves it, Louis writes songs for Harry, M/M, Maybe a proposal?, Mouth Fucking, Picnics, Skype date Valentine's, Sometimes Louis likes to be tied up.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6006796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyStarkid/pseuds/LucyStarkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment in time. Harry and Louis’ Valentine’s through the years. </p><p>The first tasted of champagne bubbles, blankets and freshly cut grass.</p><p>The second looked like lace, candlelight and tanned skin.</p><p>The third sounded like miles apart, longing, and love in musical form.</p><p>The fourth smelled of care, understanding, and years of special moments.</p><p>The fifth felt like trust, a gentle caress, and ties of their own choosing.</p><p>Author’s note - This idea popped in to my head this morning and I had to write it. I’ve based each year around one of the senses: taste, sight, sound, smell and touch. Some years are sweet and innocent. Some years are filled with need and want. Some are spent together. Some are spent apart. But the love never falters. Oh and Louis sometimes wears lacy underwear. And Harry likes it. A lot. And sometimes Harry ties Louis up. And Louis likes it. A lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You fill up my senses

**_Their first tasted of champagne bubbles, blankets and freshly cut grass._ **

First’s were always exciting, special, and a little bit nerve-wracking. And Harry was feeling all of those things. Trying to contain the nervous energy bubbling in his stomach, threatening to overwhelm him, he steadied himself, taking a deep breath, going back to the kitchen to finish the preparation he’d put hours of love, sweat and tears into.

He’d spent the day before covered in flour, somehow coating every surface in a light dusting of white powder, no matter how careful he’d tried to be. Now though, now he was on to the finishing touches. Wrapping each item, packaging everything away safely in the wicker basket he’d borrowed from his mum. Ticking things off the list he’d written, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, he’d even stuck a large, brightly coloured post-it note on the fridge door to remind himself not to forget the dessert and drinks chilling in there,

‘Ok, right, ok’, he reassured himself, ‘That’s everything I think.’ And with that he dusted himself down, hung the stripey apron up on its hook, and made his way back to his bedroom to get changed. Rifling through his wardrobe and picking the soft lilac jumper he knew was Louis’ favourite, he slipped it on, pulling on a pair of black jeans and brown boots to finish his outfit. Stomach still fluttering with pent-up nerves he looked in the mirror, ran his hands through his hair and tied a patterned scarf in place to keep his curls out of his eyes. And giving his reflection a stern talking to, ‘Come on Harry, it’s going to be fine, he’s going to love it’ he shoved his phone and keys in his pocket, put the items chilling in the fridge in the basket and made his way out into the chilly February afternoon.

They’d discovered the little meadow months ago, late one night after too many drinks, stumbling their way back to Louis’. Even in the moonlight it had been beautiful, secluded and deserted, giving the impression that they were the only people in the whole world lucky enough to have found it. They’d shared one of their very first kisses there, innocent and full of hope, whispering words of the beginnings of love into each other’s mouths. It held a whole host of very special memories.

Which was why they’d agreed to spend their first Valentine’s there.

…

Louis bounced from foot to foot as he queued, money growing warm in his palm. Finally it was his turn to pay, and with a small, nervous ‘thank you’, he was out into the day, a roll of wrapping paper tucked under his arm, and a roll of tape stuffed in his coat pocket. When he’d woken up in his bed at his mum’s, he’d smiled to himself, looking forward to finding out exactly what the day had in store for them. He knew they were meeting at the meadow. But other than that, Harry had been adamant about keeping the rest of the plan a secret.

Walking now, checking the time again and again, worried about being late, or too early, he chewed at his bottom lip, hoping Harry would appreciate the small gift he’d got him. It wasn’t much, but he hoped the sentiment made up for its lack of value.

…

Louis was bang on time, but Harry, Harry had obviously been there for quite some time. It was beautiful.

Making his way through the long grass, pushing low-hanging branches out of the way, Louis spotted the colourful lanterns first. As he walked closer, his breath caught in his throat, the effort Harry had put into it all clear to see. Lanterns of a variety of colours hanging on the branches of the tree. A blanket he recognised from lazy summer days in Harry’s garden, spread out on the grass. And a wicker basket,filled to the brim sat on the blanket, ice bucket and bottle of champagne propped up against it. And Harry. Harry sitting on the blanket too, facing away from him, looking stunning in Louis’ favourite jumper.

Clearing his throat softly, letting Harry know he was there, he was greeted by those beautiful green eyes, and that brilliant, dimpled smiled he already loved so much. ‘Lou, you’re here.’ And Harry stood then, meeting Louis in a gentle, tentative kiss. ‘Hi love,’ Louis kissed into his mouth, ‘You cheated, you got here early.’ And Harry dipped his head, breaking eye-contact, saying softly, ‘Had some setting up to do, wanted it to be perfect for when you got here.’

And it was perfect.

‘Harry, I can’t believe you did all of this yourself, and for me. It’s too much, it must have taken ages,’ Louis said, full from the food they’d eaten, and fuzzy from the champagne they’d shared. Lying pressed together on the soft blanket, Harry the little spoon, he could feel Harry smiling as he spoke, ‘I enjoyed it, I enjoy doing things for you, I enjoy looking after you. Always.’ And turning in Louis’ arms, placing a kiss that deepened to his lips, Louis could definitely agree with that, especially the ‘always’.

Breaking apart, and rummaging in his bag, Louis looked shy as he placed the card and small present in Harry’s hands. ‘I hope you like it, it’s not much, but yeah…’ and he trailed off, leaving Harry to look at him with such softness that it made his chest ache.

Stroking at Louis’ cheek in what he hoped was an encouraging way, and smiling at him gently, he opened the present first. And it was a picture frame. A beautiful sleek silver picture frame. But an empty picture frame. Louis jumped in then, sounding anxious, ‘Should have got you to open the card first, would’ve made more sense, sorry….’

Placing a small kiss to the corner of Louis’ mouth, he opened the card. ‘Oh Louis…’ and it was handmade, pictures of both of them from the last months stuck all over every square inch of it, happy faces smiling up at them. ‘Lou, I love it so much, thank you…’ And then it dawned on him, Louis’ plan. ‘This is to go in the frame isn’t it? It’s so sweet of you Lou, thank you.’

And opening it, written inside the card, the message made Harry’s stomach somersault,  _ Harry, I am so glad we found each other. Please be my Valentine, always. Your Lou xx _

…

**_Their second looked like lace, candlelight and tanned skin._ **

Harry wasn’t sure if he was going to survive Valentine’s day this year, and he didn’t care. What a way to go. Louis had taken him by the hand, laid him down gently in the middle of the bed and whispered in his ear to keep his eyes closed. And he had. Lying patiently as he heard Louis move around the room, quiet sounds of matches being struck, clothes being discarded on the floor, light switch being flicked off.  

But now, with permission to open them again, he’d never seen anything more gorgeous in his life. And he was sure it was going to kill him. There, surrounded by flickering candlelight, room warm, and sheets crisp under his skin, stood Louis. Naked except for a pair of black, lacy knickers. Miles and miles of toned tanned skin. Plump, round arse straining at the thin fabric, cock hard, pressed against his own stomach.   

Mouth watering, Harry scrambled to the end of the bed, frantic, needing to touch. But batted away with a gentle, ‘Not yet love, no touching yet,’ and a soft push to his shoulder, Harry let out a long, frustrated moan, collapsing back down on the bed beneath him.

It was torture. The best kind of painful torture. Harry was helpless, unable to move, unable to touch, as Louis slowly, agonisingly, made his way around the room towards him. Stopping now and again to bend and pick something up off of the floor, shooting a heated look over his shoulder. Standing in the doorway, hooking his fingers over the doorframe, stretching and flexing his stomach muscles, cock poking out of the top of the lace. Running his hand along the surface of the wooden desk next to the bed, popping his hip, for no apparent reason, other than to drive Harry slowly mad.

Finally, he reached the edge of the bed.

‘Please Lou, please let me touch you,’ Harry heard himself begging, not caring how desperate he sounded. Keeping his hands clasped above his head, waiting for Louis to say the word, he panted and bucked up into thin air, pleading for Louis to join him and do something, anything.

And with a, ‘Well seeing as you asked so nicely,’ Louis was on him, straddling him, arse nestled onto Harry’s hard cock, only a thin layer of lace separating them. Placing a palm on each of Harry’s shoulders, Louis fixed him with a look, and then, eyelashes fanning his cheeks, shifting his gaze lower, he ground down. Grinding mercilessly on Harry’s cock, rocking and rolling his hips, moaning and sighing himself now, Louis moved, shifting to lean back, hands grasping Harry’s muscled thighs. And in that position, wow. Stretched back, stomach muscles taut, Harry could see Louis’ cock straining at the delicate, lacy fabric, thighs digging into the thin elastic, rivers of sweat beading there way down his chest and into the hair leading to the lace lower still.

‘Lou please, let me touch you...need to,’ Harry was desperate now, frantic. Sitting up and looking at him, stroking himself through the lace, Louis leant forward, meeting Harry is a searing kiss, tongue delving into his mouth, nipping and tugging at his bottom lip. And then, hot and sultry in his ear, finally, ‘Harry, you can touch me, touch me now, fuck.’ Louis sounded as wrecked as Harry felt, and gripping his arse with both hands, shifting him higher until he was sitting on his chest, Harry slipped his hands under the fabric, kneading and stroking, placing feather light touches over Louis’ hole, ‘Oh fuck Harry, fuck, get these off me,’ and pawing at the fabric, not wanting to move, looking desperate, Harry took hold of the lace at Louis’ hips and pulled, tearing them to pieces, throwing the shredded fabric to one side on the bed.

‘Fuck yes,’ cock springing free, bouncing inches from Harry’s face, Louis seemed to lose all composure, ‘Harry, fuck, what do you want me to do to you, just tell me, fuck.’ But instead of answering, Harry simply took hold of Louis arse again and pulled him in, pulled him closer until his cock was within reach.

Licking his lips, and opening his mouth wide, Harry pushed Louis towards him until he could take him in, revelling in the feel and taste of him, licking and sucking, circling the head of his cock with his tongue, pushing Louis in as deep as he could go. ‘Fuck Harry, fuck me that feels...’ Gulping and swallowing around him, throat contracting, Harry, determined, looked up meeting Louis’ frantic gaze, and reached around stroking again, once, twice, over his hole. That was it, deep in Harry’s throat, as deep as he could go, Louis came, pulsing long and hard, bliss feeling like it was never going to end.

Tangled together, recovering, Louis reached down Harry’s body, wanting to make him come too. ‘I’m ok,’ Harry muttered into the arm he’d thrown across his own face, ‘You were quite a sight, was enough for me,’ and Louis felt so fond at that, shifting down to lie on Harry’s stomach, licking up the come that lay in pearly lines.

…

Coming back into the bedroom, wrapped present and envelope under his arm, Louis looked content, still blissed out from earlier, but a little more awake after a long shower. Waking Harry up with a soft kiss to his forehead, and a ‘Here love, it’s just a little thing,’ Harry woke with a yawn and then a smile when he saw what Louis was holding. Unwrapping the present and laughing, opening the card and smiling wide, he pressed a hard kiss and an ‘I love you’ into Louis’ mouth.

Another empty frame, and card covered in their faces smiling up at him. Memories of another year they’d spent together in love.  

…

**_Their third sounded like miles apart, longing, and love in musical form._ **

It was just another day, it didn’t matter, really it didn’t matter at all. Louis was trying and failing to make himself believe it. Thousands of miles up in the air and due to land in LA soon, he missed Harry with his whole heart. And to be separated on Valentine’s day of all days made it a hundred times worse. He’d tried to distract himself with free drinks, pointless apps on his phone, and making annoying small talk with the person sat next to him. But it hadn’t helped. If anything it had made it worse. And thinking back to the night before, holding Harry close, pressing kisses into his hair, he wished more than anything that he hadn’t had to leave.

…

Harry woke up, reaching around blindly, feeling for the warm body he was so used to waking up next to. Then, finding only cold sheets and too much room to spread out, it hit him. Louis was gone, probably most of the way to LA by now. And he tried to be mature, make himself believe that it was ok, that it was just another day. But no. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the sad feeling of spending Valentine’s day apart. He knew it was silly, but he couldn’t help it.

Deciding to get up and spend the day with his mum, he got dressed, finding one of Louis’ t-shirts that was too small on him really, and putting it on anyway, soaking up the scent and phantom warmth.

Pottering about with his mum was a good distraction, doing normal domestic things like food shopping, baking and helping to get dinner ready felt reassuringly familiar. Just what he needed. He felt lighter for it, more grounded than he’d felt that morning that was for sure. And sitting down for dinner with his family, talking about mundane stuff, and catching up with their lives, it actually felt good, really good.

…

Headed to the studio and feeling tired to his core, Louis wished the time away even though he’d only just got there. Straight into writing sessions, he knew he wouldn’t be done until late at night. The only thing keeping him going was the promise of a late-night Skype session with Harry once he was done.

Clock-watching and grinding the day away, he tried his best to stay engaged, contribute where necessary, but his heart wasn’t really in it. And when they wrapped for the day, no one had to know why he was so eager to escape back to his hotel.

…

Harry rushed home, not wanting to be late for their call. Getting home and settling on the bed he waited, biting his nails, waiting for the Skype alert. Time passed slowly, painfully, until finally he was startled out of his daydreaming by his phone coming to life in his hands.

Connecting and seeing Louis’ face pop up on the screen, Harry felt himself light up and waved through the screen, knowing he probably looked desperately keen, but not caring, ‘Hi Lou, you ok?’. And with an equally silly grin, Louis waved back, ‘I’m good love, happy Valentine’s Day!’

‘How’s your day been love?’ Louis questioned softly, and after hearing about Harry’s day with his mum, he didn’t feel quite so bad at having had to leave. It wasn’t that they couldn’t be apart, it was just that being apart on such a special day for them was difficult. ‘Hey, harry do you want to hear a bit of something I’m working on at the moment?...it’s a special one for me…’

And seeing the nerves and apprehension in Louis’ eyes, had Harry agreeing, with a ‘Yes of course, always,’ before he knew it.

Nothing could have prepared Harry for the emotions that hit him, he’d heard the beginnings of the melody before, but never the lyrics. He knew they existed, but Louis had kept them tucked away, oddly private about it. But now, through the tiny screen, and poor quality speaker, it was too much, and sent goosebumps racing all over his body.

_ My hands, your hands, tied up like two ships. Drifting, weightless, waves try to break it. I'd do anything to save it. Why is it so hard to say it? _

‘Lou’, he whispered, in awe.

_ My heart, your heart, sit tight like book ends. Pages between us, written with no end. So many words we're not saying. Don't wanna wait 'til it's gone. You make me strong. _

Not sure he could form words, but not wanting Louis to think he didn’t like it, he forced them out, ‘Lou, that was beautiful, so beautiful.’

Louis looked up then through the screen, ‘You know it’s about you don’t you? About us...happy Valentine’s. I’m so sorry I can’t be there.’ And before Harry could reply, he carried on, ‘I left you something though...look under the bed.’

And having an inkling of what it was, and feeling giddy from it, Harry reached under the bed, feeling around until his hand came to rest on a package. Sliding it out and holding it up to the camera, Louis just nodded, told him to open it.

Tearing off the paper, and laughing a watery laugh as he held another empty frame in his hands, he looked to Louis, shaking his head, saying ‘I can’t believe you, can’t believe you remembered, even with everything going on.’ And opening the card, turning it over to face him, there they were again, for the third year now, happy faces smiling out from the card. Another year in love.

...

**_Their fourth smelled of care, understanding, years of special moments and many more to come._ **

Louis actually had a plan for this year, wanted to make it extra special. A Valentine’s Harry would never forget. He’d spent hours looking up flowers with the most appealing scents, and the meanings of those flowers. But now he was doubting himself, worried that flowers were a bit safe, a bit run of the mill for something so special. Talking to his mum, talking his plan through and why he’d chosen what he’d chose, she’d reassured him that Harry would love it, ‘Love, don’t worry, it sounds lovely, and so romantic...you know he’ll adore it. He’ll love anything from you.’

His mum didn't know the other part of his plan though, didn’t understand why he was quite so anxious.

Meeting Harry at the studio, waiting while he finished up, Louis tried to keep his nerves at bay, didn’t want to make him suspicious. But they knew each other too well, years of living in each other’s pockets, in and out of work, meant that he couldn’t get anything past Harry. He looked at him concerned, asking gently, ‘Lou, you ok? You seem all edgy, anything I can help with?’ and Louis wanted to scream, ‘Yes, just say yes!’, but instead he just smiled what he hoped was a convincing smile, squeezed Harry’s hand clasped in his, and said, ‘Absolutely, I’m fine, so fine, couldn’t be finer.’ And he could’ve slapped himself at the odd look he got from Harry in return.

…

Walking into their home, kicking off their shoes and hanging up their coats, Louis got more and more worked up by the minute. Offering to make them tea, and handing one to Harry with shaking hands didn’t help.

After a moment or two, sipping his tea, Harry asked, ‘Lou have you got a new aftershave, something smells gorgeous?’ and counting it as a win, Louis decided to go for it.

‘No it’s not me, but I’m glad you like it, wait a sec, yeah?’ And jumping off the sofa, disappearing off into the spare room, he was back after just a minute with the most beautiful bouquet of roses Harry had ever seen. ‘Lou, they’re stunning, thank you so much, they smell amazing.’

And Louis took a deep breath and went for it, ‘They mean something, did you know that? Every flower has a meaning to it, and every rose actually.’ And looking at the flowers now, Harry could see, deep red, pink, white, yellow, and some that were streaked red and white.’ I wanted to capture what I feel for you, what I feel about us in them.

‘Pink means admiration and appreciation. And I don’t know if I’ve ever outright told you, but I admire you so much, how open you are with your heart, and I appreciate you every day, I hope you know that. Red, that’s probably the easiest one to guess, that means love, passionate love, and even after all these year’s I love you so much, I sometimes don’t know what to do with myself.

‘The yellow ones mean friendship, because you’re my best friend, over and above everything else. And unity, the red and white ones mean unity, and you and me, we’re the best team I’ve ever been part of. And the white ones, they stand for purity...and I know, don’t laugh...but we are though I think, I think our love comes from a really pure place. So yeah, I learnt a lot about flowers.’

Harry was dumbfounded, didn’t really know what to say, just about managing to choke out a, ‘Oh Lou, I love you, that you put so much thought into that, about us. That means so much, thank you.’

And deciding to go big or go home, Louis got to his feet then, holding a wrapped present and envelop in his shaking hands, getting down on one knee, handing both to Harry. And it was Harry’s turn to feel nervous now, taking them with trembling hands, not daring to believe. First of all he opened the present, another empty frame. Smiling fondly at it, he leant forward to brush a gentle kiss to Louis’ lips. Moving on to the card, hands still shaking, he opened it carefully, looking fondly at the images of the two of them covering the front of it for another year. But this time, this time the card felt thicker, a lump in the middle of it.

Holding it steady, and shaking his head as he looked up, he laughed a teary laugh as he said it, ‘You didn’t Lou, did you?’ and still down on one knee, trying his best to hold it together, Louis just nodded, smiling, ‘I did Curly.’

And there tied to the inside of the card by a pale pink ribbon were two simple rings, and the message,  _ Harry, would you do me the honour of letting me love you for the rest of our lives, will you marry me? Louis xx _

Falling down on to the floor, cupping Louis’ face in his hands, laughing and crying, both of them, Harry kissed the words into his mouth. ‘Yes, of course yes, always, I love you Lou, with my whole heart.’

…

**_Their fifth felt like a trust, a gentle caress, and ties of their own choosing._ **

Bath running, bubbles threatening to spill over the edge, they sank down into the warm water, nestled together at one end, enjoying the feel of close contact and relaxation after a busy day. Louis closed his eyes, conscious of Harry behind him, running his hands over him under the water. ‘That feels good love, god so tired, really need this.’

And not needing any further encouragement, Harry uncapped the bottle, squeezing out a generous amount, and started to wash Louis’ hair, pressing deep, slow circles into his scalp. Letting his head drop back, going limp under Harry’s caress, it dawned on Louis how much they leant on each other for support. Even after all these years, they were each other’s loudest and most consistent cheerleaders, always there, through the good times and the tough. And sometimes it was the little things, like now, after a hell of a day at work, Harry, taking the time to look after him, focussing on his needs, making him feel good.

Coming back to himself, feeling Harry massaging his shoulders now, the water cooling, Louis turned to share a slow, lingering kiss. Breaking apart, looking at him in a soft, tender way, Harry asked him, gently, ‘Lou, do you want to use the ribbons tonight? Want to look after you, take all your stresses away.’

…

They’d done this before, but each time it hit Louis hard how much he needed it, how much it worked for him. Lying on the bed, Harry straddling him, tieing each wrist securely in place with a red velvet ribbon. Louis felt cared for and looked after in the most intimate way. Twisting each wrist, content he was secure, but that the ribbons were soft enough not to dig in, Harry moved downwards.

Placing gentle kisses to Louis lips, wanting to make him feel good, he carried on further still, peppering his jaw, his neck, his collarbone with kisses, some butterfly soft, others biting, making the skin turn red. Looking down at him through his lashes, Louis asked, earnestly, ‘Harry, need you, need you to take control, please.’ And so he did.

Fingering himself open, lots of lube, and lots of practice easing his way, but still, ‘Oh god, Lou, feels….’ as his hips bucked, two fingers inside himself. Needing, but not ready yet, biting his lower lip between his teeth, he massaged and caressed further, easing a third finger in. ‘Harry, you look so beautiful like that, so beautiful for me…’ and looking up, seeing Louis tied to the bed, they were in awe of each other, a deep understanding and appreciation cloaking itself around them.

Fucking back onto three fingers now, feeling sparks shoot up his spine, he was ready. Together so long, and soul-searchingly faithful, this was one of those times where Louis needed to feel him. Really feel Harry around him, skin on skin, as open and honest with each other as they could be. ‘No condom love, no need, want to feel you, all around me, now.’ And tied up like that, Louis was in no real position to direct things, but he still tried and it made Harry’s heart ache. ‘Shhh, love, let me look after you, I know, I know…’ And shifting to sit over Louis’ hips, he sank down, inch by inch, stretch and pain shifting into heat and a glorious fullness in minutes.

Louis was seeing stars, blissed out before Harry was even surrounding him, the sensation of restriction, of giving up control, a powerful one. But now, with Harry riding him, rolling his hips, lifting off, only to sink right back down, now he thought he might actually float away if it weren’t for the ties. ‘Fuck Harry, fuck, oh god, that’s feels…’ Leaning forward, mouths meeting, tongues fucking, Harry’s hips circling and grinding, lifting and dropping relentlessly, Louis felt like he was having life fucked back in to him if that was possible. ‘Lou, oh Lou, you look, fuck you just look…’

Pulling at his restraints, revelling in the feel of testing them, and of them not giving, Louis bucked his hips now, meeting Harry, thrusting into him. Knocking Harry forward with a deep thrust, face to face, panting into each others mouths, Louis fucked in again, hard and deep, looking for it, finding it. Harry screamed, loud and long, sound bouncing around the room, ‘Fuck, there right there, oh god, oh god...’

Rhythm gone, both chasing the electricity humming through their veins, kissing as best they could, Harry caved first, tensing on a silent scream, frozen in Louis’ arms, pulsing long, hot stripes all over his chest. Keeping it together long enough to focus on Louis’ frantic and covered in sweat below him, Harry leant forward all the way, grabbed both of Louis’ hands and pulled down hard, emphasising the restraint, the lack of control. And that was it, with a long, whimpered moan, hands still clasped together, Louis came, hot, pulsing, trembling all over.

…

Tucked up in bed, wrists massaged carefully with moisturiser, tea on the bedside table, Louis remembered. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day love, can’t believe I nearly forgot.’ Opening the draw next to him, pulling out two wrapped presents and a card, he handed them to Harry, smiling, ‘There’s an extra surprise this year.’ Fond as ever, still burning bright after all the years, Harry opened the largest present first. An empty picture frame, and still he loved it, just like he’d loved the four before. Opening the card next, again, his love for the man next to him never dimmed, dozens of photos of the two of them, some of Harry he hadn't even realised had been taken, covering every inch of the handmade card.

And the last present. For once not having a clue what it was going to be, tearing and the paper and holding it in his hands, unwrapped now, the ring was beautiful. It was a heavy silver design, large dark stone, rounded at the edges, silver filigree running around the edge of it. Slipping it on, it fit perfectly. ‘Lou, it’s gorgeous, I love it thank you.’ And leaning across to kiss the man he loved, Louis whispered into it, ‘Open it love.’ And the ring was hinged. Taking it off to open it, Harry let out a delighted sound. Set into one side, inside the ring, was a tiny photo of the two of them, sixteen and eighteen, and set in the other side, a photo from just a month or two ago.

Happy, strong, together, and in love, five years and going strong.

...

  
  



End file.
